


In This Darkness, I Have You

by blood-and-cigars (ardellaine)



Category: Hellsing
Genre: Alucard gets a little freaky with them shadow tendrils, Angst, Blood Play, Declarations Of Love, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Light Bondage, Master/Servant, Menstrual Sex, Oral Sex, PWP, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-01
Updated: 2019-08-01
Packaged: 2020-07-28 15:54:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,611
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20066617
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ardellaine/pseuds/blood-and-cigars
Summary: These games they played may be dangerous, but then that was precisely the draw. Of course she called them games because she couldn’t bear to consider them anything more, but that was never something she’d dwell on for long.





	In This Darkness, I Have You

**Author's Note:**

  * For [walonvaus](https://archiveofourown.org/users/walonvaus/gifts).

On nights like these, she made readying for bed into its own decadence. It was a rare occasion indeed for her to be without any obligations for the night itself _ or _ the following morning. 

At the end of the day she always had so many thoughts in her head, so many small and large frustrations and worries and regrets. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been calm enough, _ carefree enough, _to pin her hair up and just soak in a bath like this. She’d even made use of the little scented oil diffusers she’d accumulated over the years as gifts. They weren’t half bad, she certainly felt relaxed. 

She’d closed her eyes, and the sound of the rain beating away at the roof just about put her to sleep. But her vampire was waiting for her. 

She wrapped herself up in a towel, before padding through the adjoining door into her room. The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end, and for a moment she thought it was because she’d left the steam and warmth of the bathroom. But no, the air was heavier here, the sounds of the storm raging outside were muted. She smirked. Someone was clearly feeling impatient. 

Her bare feet sank into the plush carpet with every step. She enjoyed the tranquility of the quiet, dark bedroom, waiting for her with the soft hush of a whisper. It was only when a flash of lightning threw the room into sharp relief that she realized the power must be out. She fished out the candles she kept in a drawer and set out lighting them, no doubt Alucard was positively delighted with the genre appropriate backdrop. A fanciful storm, and a maiden to be preyed upon by candlelight? She stifled a laugh.

He'd been looking forward to this all month long; she swore he kept track of her cycles more closely than she herself did. And no doubt now, he was waiting, ever so impatiently. So she was sure to take her time.

She set aside the towel, and dressed slowly. A nightdress, billowing and lacy enough to fit the part. She knew he loved the lurid contrast of red on pristine white. Though he had yet to have let a single drop of her blood go to waste, so it was a hypothetical color scheme if anything.

They’d come to this arrangement of theirs a little over a year ago.

He’d made some joke about how she let all that blood go to waste, month after month while her poor vampire watched.

And she’d looked at him over her glasses, doing her best to keep a straight face as she said, _ we could always remedy that _. The look on his face alone had been worth it. 

She unpinned her hair and let it tumble down her back. She could almost hear the intake of breath, like a cold draft in the room. Her steps towards the bed were measured, leisurely. She glanced around to see if she might just catch movement, or eyes watching her from the shadows, but apparently he didn’t feel like making himself known yet. She pulled aside the duvet delicately, and settled on the sheets—also white. Now it was only to wait. 

These games they played may be dangerous, yes, but then that was precisely the draw. And of course she called them games because she couldn’t bear to consider them anything more, but that was never something she’d dwell on for long.

The rules were such: he may not break her skin, never anything too public or that would jeopardize her standing, and nothing that would cross over to what archaic rules of vampirism considered the taking of virginity. 

And of course most importantly never to acknowledge… whatever this was outside of the confines of their trysts. 

She’d thought it would be difficult to maintain a straight face around him, to look at him knowing that he’d witnessed her every sigh and gasp and pretend that it was nothing. But in the end, it was a simple thing. She carried on as she always had, even if sometimes his gaze lingered on her a bit too long, even if he sometimes looked like he wanted to reach for her. 

She caught a shadow flicker from the corner of her eye, almost imperceptible. She was very curious to see what he had planned. 

An icy hand clutched her ankle, and pulled her down until her head hit the pillows. The candles wavered in unison before guttering out entirely. Her eyes didn’t need much adjusting to the darkness so it wasn’t difficult for her to discern the shadows of more hands rising from the bed itself. She let them pin her wrists above her head, biting down on her lip to stifle laughter. Yes, he was clearly taking the theatrics seriously. 

She watched him materialize at the foot of her bed. The mattress listed under his weight, as he slowly moved towards her. She couldn’t quite discern his features, by some trick of light or perhaps magic on his part. She gasped at the feel of leather brushing against her skin. 

The silhouette climbed over her. Another stroke of lightning illuminated his face, the sharp lines of the straps and buckles on the suit. Her automatic reaction to this form was always a phantom thrill, the echoes of old fear, well worn and familiar. 

He loomed over her, eyes just a touch too bright for the dim light. His hair draped over the both of them. She thought she could just make out distant eyes blinking at her from the depths of the room. 

“I haven’t fed— just as you’ve ordered, my Master. ” He nosed at her neck, it reminded her of a cat nuzzling for attention.

The shadow hand gripping her ankle trailed along her calf lazily. There were more shadow tendrils now as well, wandering over her stomach, her thighs. She ignored them. “So you’re expecting a treat?” 

“Only what my Master offers.” He drew back to meet her eyes, propped up on his elbows. “Should I expect one?”

“Release me.”

He grinned. The hands holding up her wrists loosed to move down her forearms, to run through her hair. She wondered what this would look like from the outside, horrifying most likely. 

“Why? Would you like someone to be watching? We could always arrange that, I _ do _have thousands of souls at my disposal. The best part is they won’t speak a word of it in the morning— unless you want them to.”

“Oh, hush.” She reached up to brush her fingertips against his face, he— and his shadows— stilled. There was something very gratifying about how such a simple touch could make him melt. His skin was always softer than she expected. She should’ve known better by then, but each time she anticipated it to be unyielding like stone. 

She trailed down to his mouth, traced the shape of them. His lips parted under her touch and she pushed her index finger into his mouth. She brushed the pad of her fingertip over his teeth, though lightly enough not to break skin. She pressed down on the edge of a delicate canine, steeling herself not to wince. 

He hissed in a breath, and she knew that she’d drawn blood. He watched her carefully, waiting.

She removed her hand, blood beading on the tip of her finger. He attempted to follow but she placed her free hand on his chest to stop him. She pushed him away until he had to sit up, resting back on his heels. 

“I didn't say that you could drink.” She licked away the drop herself, tasting the salty iron of it. “You must earn it first.” 

Hunger burned in his eyes, a small smile playing at his lips. There was a feeling, almost like static building up in the air. A distant clap of thunder broke through the steady drum of the rain, the wind rattled the windows in their frames. 

“Of course,” he said simply. 

The hands lurched her up to him in a bruising kiss. There was a moment of vertigo where she was suspended in the air by nothing but the phantom hands, she was clutched to him and there was nothing else. His tongue swept inside her mouth for any traces left of the blood. The hands twisted into her hair, tugging hard. She gasped breathless against him, his skin was much colder than she was used to. The unexpected chill of him raised the hair on the back of her neck. 

She pulled away to breathe, gather her bearings. He’d pulled her into his lap, the skirt of her dress pooling around them. He moved on to the bare column of her neck. In between kisses, his teeth just barely grazed her skin. 

She noticed wryly that the hand tilting her jaw was indeed attached to his elbow.

“And should I blame you for the power outage?” she asked. Idly, she stroked the soft leather of his suit. She’d often wondered what it felt like to him, the clothes he could absorb at will, the shadow tendrils. 

“There’s nothing out of the ordinary with a fuse box going out.”

“That wasn’t a denial.”

“The _ storm _certainly isn’t my fault.”

She laughed, and he kissed away the sound. There was something just a touch too soft about the way he held her close, how he sighed. It was too close an approximation of tenderness, like he’d forgotten their game. She made to draw back and get a better look at his face, but he only clutched her tighter. It would bruise later, but then again, the both of them, they were never much for gentleness.

“Why so theatrical Alucard?” 

“Why not?” He grinned against her skin. “I seldom have the opportunity to entertain my Master, and even rarer still to have the entire night.”

Despite the taunting and the silliness, too often, something unfortunately like reverence crept in beneath his bravado. She wondered just how irresponsible it was to let him cling to her like this, to encourage it. 

“Then this is your version of champagne and rose petals?” 

“Is it not to your liking?” His lips trailed along her throat up to her earlobe, lightly taking it between his teeth. 

“I’m not complaining.” 

“Feeling apprehensive, Integra? Have you lost your nerve?” His cool breath wafted over her skin, sending a chill down her spine. 

“Hardly.” She laughed again, and she wasn’t certain whether she should be proud of how natural it sounded, despite the tightness of her throat. 

But, he knew her too well. And then of course there were his damn telepathic powers. He pulled back, a hint of concern in his voice. “Integra, tell me what troubles you.”  
  
The silence grew between them, while she debated what to say, if anything. Shadow tendrils rubbed circles over her back, likely meant in comfort but it only added to the pit of dread building in her stomach. 

“You are,” she said quietly. 

He took a moment to consider that. When a vampire did not move their stillness was like stone. It was so absolute that it was easy to believe they’d never move again. She’d grown accustomed to this over the years, but sometimes the uncanniness still struck her. 

“I apologize for whatever I may have done to upset you. Might I ask what my transgressions were?” A subtle mirth still played at his features. When she did not immediately answer he cupped her face again, stroked her bottom lip with his thumb. “Far from me to intentionally hurt my most beloved Master— ”  
  
“Don’t say that,” she cut him off. 

  
He tilted his head, she hadn’t been clear but he obviously took her meaning. “Then I won’t, but it wouldn’t change anything.” 

She felt another pang of dread. Her chest felt tight, and it seemed there was suddenly far less air in the room. “I don’t care, I don’t want to hear it.” 

“Is it so distasteful?” He said, words bitter, but there was a strange energy in his eyes. “That I might count the days as best I can, not because of the gift of my Master’s blood... but because I look forward to your embrace? That I might touch you with these hands that have torn through so much flesh and wrought only destruction and you would not shudder in revulsion?” 

Several beats passed as they looked at each other, each trying on and abandoning various arguments in silence with the storm still raging outside. This went on until at last his eyes glowed brighter still, a bloody contrast to his pale face. He lowered her back down onto the bed, and she let him. The shadows wrapped around her wrists again and pulled them taught above her head. 

“Do you think I’m an animal? No? Am I mindless then, an automaton incapable of emotions?” 

“No.” She looked up at him, her heart beating wildly in her chest. His touch was just as cold, though it must’ve been deliberate. Her skin should’ve warmed his by now. Despite the icy chill of him, heat pooled inside her. 

“Or is it that I am a monster? Something as sweet and fleeting and fragile as love must be beyond me.” He kissed down her sternum, and she could still feel the coolness of his lips despite the flimsy fabric of her nightdress between them. He moved to the sharp jut of her hip, and over her thigh. Blooms of pleasure followed in his wake.

“Don’t speak of love.” She attempted to twist away from him, but he didn’t loosen his grip. She could feel her heartbeat hammering in her ears. “If you feel for me beyond simple affection, beyond simple lust, it’s because you’ve been taught to love your chains, and to love your jailer— whoever that may be.” 

“Perhaps. It’s not unlikely, but does it matter?” She startled when he was suddenly at eye level with her again. He looked sincere. 

His hands trailed down her collarbone to the lacy neckline of her dress, nimbly undoing the buttons. 

“_ Of course _ it matters,” she said breathlessly. More shadows winded up her legs. She stifled a moan at the first brush of one running up and down her thighs. She wasn’t certain what he was on about this time (how much of it was real, how much the games he liked to play?) but she didn’t exactly _ mind _ it either. 

“If it does, then why don’t you send me away?” He said slowly, deliberately. The cold touch of the shadows trailed further up between her legs; she hadn’t bothered with panties. “Stop me.” 

She bit her lip on a low whine but otherwise said nothing, so he pulled her closer still, his mouth against the base of her collarbone, where her pulse thrummed. She arched her back against him. 

“Swear me off like a bad habit, go on. Try.” The shadows continued stroking her at a tantalizing rhythm. She was already slick, with both arousal and blood. It was overwhelming, so many hands and shadows and the leather of his suit and his kisses trailing along her skin. She flexed her bound hands, fingers closing on the not quite there substance of her bonds, like they were submerged in cool water. 

“Tell me I disgust you.” He cupped her bared breast, ran his tongue over a pointed nipple. The shadows were still ever so slowly teasing her, tracing her folds. Soon one of his hands joined their ministrations, finding her clit. He still kept to that languorous pace. It was too slow. 

“Say it.” 

She hissed in a breath as he slipped a finger inside of her, and then another. Her hips raised to meet his thrusts, she didn’t bother masking her moans anymore. 

The pressure steadily built. She twitched and shuddered around his fingers, straining against where she was pinned. 

“Tell me, my Master, how loathe you are to even think of me. Integra, _ tell me _.” 

And then he stopped, leaving her aching. She couldn’t suppress a soft cry of indignation, bereft of his touch. 

“Nothing to say?” A flash of lightning illuminated him, licking his fingers of her blood. The silvery light made it look black. She’d be disgusted, she _ should _ be, but... the look on his face. 

“I’m not dignifying this with an answer,” she said, without nearly as much bite to it as she would’ve liked. Her breath was coming in ragged pants. 

“Oh?” He paused, and she could tell something in his mood had shifted yet again. “Then... tell me you want me.”

She smiled wryly. “You wouldn’t be in my bed otherwise.” In the expectant silence that followed she added, “Of course, I want you,” and despite herself, it came out like a moan. 

Alucard brushed his lips against her cheek. He let out a long shuddering sigh. “The words fall so beautifully from your lips. But then, would you let me hear you say you love me? I don’t mind lies.”

She stiffened. 

“It's a simple thing to say isn’t it? Nothing more than words to placate your dog.” 

“Alucard, what silliness is this?” 

“Yes, it is silliness isn’t it? Madness. Heartsickness. If the longings of this heart offend you so, why don’t you cut it out? It seldom remembers to beat, but it pains me all the same. Take it, hide it away, destroy it; I don’t care. Perhaps I’ll have some peace without the wretched thing.”

She didn’t know how to respond, these were uncharted waters. Conversations she’d deliberately dodged, and he’d known about her avoidances.

He paused a moment before he burst out laughing, cutting off any non answer she might’ve given. “A year since you’ve brought me into your bed— not to mention so many more that I have served you— and only now you consider that I might feel anything for you at all? How very perceptive of you, my Master.”

“We’d agreed on an exchange,” she said weakly.

“Did you really think I do this for blood? Am I a whore that trades sex for _ sustenance? _” 

“No I— ”

“I’ve loved you for years.”

They both jumped at the sound of a knock at the door. It was a rare occasion when something startled Alucard. He looked dazed. All the inky tendrils, the magic, everything dispelled until it was only the two of them. 

She hurriedly disentangled herself and grabbed for the dressing gown hung over her chair. Her hands had gone numb, she winced at the feeling of blood rushing back to them. 

The knock came again, polite but persistent. She opened the door on Walter, looking harried underneath his typical polish. 

“Sir Integra, are you alright?” 

“Yes, what is it?” Despite her best efforts she sounded breathless. Hopefully Walter would think it was because she’d just woken up. 

“I’m afraid we lost power about half an hour ago, the generators however have also failed. Maintenance is already at work, but it isn’t clear yet how long before they’ll be up and running. We may not have power for awhile yet, my apologies ma’am.”

She rubbed her temple, Alucard had made quite a mess it seemed. “No, no it’s fine. Thank you Walter.” 

He handed her a satchel she hadn’t noticed him carrying at first. “Flashlights, batteries, a first aid kit, a utility knife, a few energy bars, a flask of water and the emergency mobile phone— already fully charged. I’ll be available should you need anything, and emergency contacts are on speed dial.” 

“Walter, it’s only a power outage.” 

“Of course ma’am, but it never hurts to be prepared. Would you like me to fetch anything else? The food is only just in case, we do still have the wood stove in the kitchen. Should I prepare some tea for you? Or something to eat—”

“That’s not necessary,” she said, feeling immediately guilty for cutting him off. “I’m sure you have more important things to attend to, I can fend for myself the rest of the night.” 

“Yes, but should you need anything at all…” 

“I’ll let you know.” She suppressed a small smile at his worry. It was sweet of him really, but now was _ not _ the time. “Good night,” she said with finality, closing the door before he could answer. Idly she wondered if Walter ever even slept, he was always fussing over something or another. 

She looked down at the doomsday bag, just how much did that thing weigh? She could probably kill someone with it. She set it down carefully by the door. 

“What is that?” Alucard said, still looking dazed enough that she thought he likely hadn’t listened in on her little exchange with Walter. Just as well he’d been so distracted, when he was in one of his moods (as he so clearly was tonight) he had a knack for causing trouble. If he were actually paying attention she suspected there would’ve been a high chance of him betraying his presence in her room somehow just to get a rise out of her— or Walter. All he had to do was walk up to the door really. 

“Walter seems to think I’ll be camped up here for a week,” she said dryly. “It seems you’ve caused quite a fuss.” 

“I have?” He stood by the foot of the bed, looking almost nervous in demeanor. At some point he’d reverted back to the form he ordinarily wore, she noticed with a pang of disappointment. The red of his coat didn’t look so glaring in the darkness. 

“Honestly, did you have to fry the lights _ and _ the generator?” She rubbed at her sore wrists. 

“No,” he said distractedly. “I said I didn’t do that.”

Her eyebrows just about shot up to her hairline. “Really? Well that’s… concerning. I thought you were playing coy.” She pulled the dressing gown closer and walked over to the window. The storm was still going strong outside. There’d doubtless be some flooding in the grounds. 

“Integra— ”

She glanced back at him, but he did not continue. “Yes?”

“Would you like me to leave?” 

“Not unless you want to.” 

“No.”

“Come here.” She held out a hand, and startled when almost immediately his gloved fingers closed around hers. He must’ve been standing right behind her; she hadn’t noticed his approach. 

He raised her hand to his lips and kissed her palm. His skin was still cool, but not enough to burn anymore. “Forgive me,” he whispered into her hand. 

“There’s nothing to apologize for.” She tried to keep her voice light, but mostly failed. 

He wrapped his other arm around her waist, pulling her flush against him.“My Master, I will take anything you give, and I will always want more: that is my nature. That doesn’t mean you should pay it any heed. Mine are the ramblings of a madman.”

“Oh, _ I know _.”

He chuckled. “Should I be offended that you’re so quick to agree with me?” He guided her to sit at the foot of the bed, and knelt in front of her. He kissed her palm again, holding it to his cheek. “Let’s both forget my outburst. Shall we? I believe I was earning my meal.” 

She smiled, though it felt forced. It would be so easy to pretend nothing had happened, scores easier than unraveling whatever it was he’d just laid at her feet. But, she couldn’t help but think it’d be irresponsible. 

“Alucard,” she began but broke off in a moan as he hooked a hand under her leg and lifted it, kissing his way up her ankle to her calf. His long tongue flicked across the underside of her knee, sending a jolt through her. 

“Let’s not speak.” He pushed her skirt back, pressing a kiss to the soft flesh of her thigh. 

He was clearly distracting her. And she knew she _ should _mind, but she was finding it difficult to be displeased with him at the moment. 

At last he lowered his mouth to her and she gasped, hips twitched at the sudden stimulation on sensitive skin so soon. His tongue swept over her lips, teasing her. Always teasing. 

It was so little blood, but already she could feel him growing livelier. Something about the way he held her, about how he breathed. Just looking at him (which was its own obscene delight) there was a vibrance she knew she’d never be able to explain. He slipped his tongue inside her, and she cried out softly, burying her fingers in his hair. 

She soon gave up trying to put a name to it however. She gave up on coherent thought entirely, eyes tightly shut, lost to sensation as waves of pleasure washed over her. 

Though he didn’t relent after she’d ridden out her climax, strokes steadily becoming less for her benefit and more intent on lapping up her blood. It was an odd sensation she had never entirely gotten used to, being _ food _. Still, each touch of his tongue sent sharp tremors through her, until finally she had to push him away. 

He made a disappointed sound in the back of his throat but settled for trailing kisses over her leg. She gave a shaky laugh at his reaction, and stretched languidly, laying back on the bed. She felt pleasantly limp and exhausted. 

They were both silent for a time. Integra let her mind wander back to the previous topic. She could’ve handled that better. She shouldn’t have been so eager to be distracted.

The bed shifted. He was beside her, touching her face, her hair until she finally opened her eyes to look at him. Though he tried to hide it, it wasn’t difficult to recognize the nervous edge behind his supposedly easy caresses. He must’ve sensed her mood drop. Again he had that look about him, the one that told her he was gauging whether he’d upset her, and how badly. 

She threw him a tired smile and sat up. “Calm down. I’m not angry.”

He looked genuinely confused. “Then what is it?”

“You’ve done nothing wrong,” she began 

He sighed, instantly knowing where she was going. “Integra, please let’s just forget it.”

“I can’t. This is… this is too much.” She leaned over him to retrieve her cigars from the side table. His breath audibly hitched. She didn’t want to discuss this, but they had to, didn’t they? “It’s a tangled _ mess._”

She didn’t know how or when he’d gotten to it, but once she straightened, he was already waiting for her with a lighter at the ready. He tilted his head, smile suddenly coy. 

In spite of her conflicted feelings, she had to appreciate the way he moved. So smooth and sinuous. On anyone else it would look unnerving; she distantly remembered it unsettling her at first. _ He _ had unsettled her at first, everything about him. 

“Don’t tell me you don’t like it.” He said, and she’d anticipated the change in his voice, that it'd be low and smoldering— again to distract her, but it worked all the same. He could play her like any instrument with that voice.  
  
“That I don’t like what?” She responded, because he was clearly waiting for her to ask.

  
“That every night, as soon as the sun sets, if not earlier, I fall to my knees before you, and you are my _ everything_.” He leaned in close, his lips brushing her ear as he spoke. His body crowded hers, pressing her against the headboard. Her heart skipped a beat. “That I am blind to all but you. Call it devotion, call it loyalty, call it love. Does it matter? There simply can’t be anything or anyone else for your loyal servant. And you’ve always known this. That’s half the draw. So tell me, Integra, what’s changed?”

She rolled her eyes affectionately. He wasn’t wrong, and that was even more upsetting. “You talk too much.”

“You like that too.” He took the cigar from her and brought it to his lips, breathing a plume of smoke in her face. 

She raised her eyebrows. “Feeling impertinent tonight, are we?” 

Alucard only grinned, offering the cigar back to her. He was consciously and deliberately coaxing her into falling back into their usual patterns. 

She _wanted_ to forget, and play along. She really did. But then, this had become a pattern. When he was worried, when he was uncertain, he’d try to tease her or seduce her.

She pushed away the offered cigar with a sigh, suddenly losing the taste for it. A blink of the eye and it was gone, he must’ve willed it away. A waste of good tobacco, but oh well. She had more.

“Nothing’s changed,” he insisted. 

“You’re right.” 

“Would you like me to beg? I’m happy to. Shall I appeal to your kindness or your vanity? My sweetest, most beautiful, alluring Master. Have mercy on this wretch you call your own.” 

“I’m serious.”

“So am I,” he said, desire still written plainly on his face. 

She stopped him before he could kiss her again. They’d never talked in terms of their relationship. There were rules and he followed them and in between trysts they pretended there was nothing between them at all. “I… don’t think we can continue like this.”

“Please,” he said, stroking her cheek. Suddenly, painfully earnest. “If you’ve tired of me, or if you cannot forgive my overstepping tonight _ fine—“ _

_ “_There’s nothing to forgive,” she said firmly.

He gave her a sad smile, suddenly looking oddly fragile. The expression looked paradoxical on him. “If that’s the case I understand,” he continued as if she hadn’t interrupted. “I cannot argue. But, if this is about me. If this is somehow for my sake, reconsider. I’ve loved you before, I love you now, and I’ll love you after all of this. Regardless of anything else. Nothing changed, and nothing need change. I only spoke out of turn.”

It was so strange to be like this, with him so close, as he murmured words of love to her. He was never so frank with her, and now he was looking at her so earnestly and he was _ beautiful_, the moonlight streaming over his cheek. It hurt her to look at him but she was unable to tear her gaze away. 

“I am your Master, you are my servant. We should never have crossed those boundaries to begin with,” she said, a cold edge to her voice. 

“Please,” he said again. Quietly. 

And she realized with horror that she must feel something for him at all, because in that moment her heart was aching.

That was a lie. She’d always known she cared for him, though she didn’t particularly dwell on how far that feeling extended. Regardless, she wanted to reassure him, to forget this entire conversation. She could’ve loved him if they were different people, or at least freely admitted it. 

She wanted to kiss the lazy grin back onto his lips. She did nothing. 

He sighed. Though he didn’t seem surprised. “Am I dismissed?” he said with mock formality. 

His tone hurt. She quickly glanced away, to the ceiling, blinking away angry tears. 

_ “Integra? _” he said, shocked. “Are you… crying?”

She swiped at her cheeks, ignoring his immediate onslaught of apologies. 

“Don’t waste tears over me.” He sounded almost outraged at the prospect. 

He gathered her up in his arms and she _ hated _ that it actually gave her comfort. She pulled away to look at him. “This was the one night we’re supposed to have to ourselves.”

“I’ve ruined things, haven’t I?”

She opened her mouth to tell him to go, to tell him this was ridiculous, but instead the words that tumbled out were, “I don’t want you to love me.” Even as she spoke them, they sounded absurd. She felt young and naive in that moment, vulnerable. 

“You could order me not to.”

Her eyes widened a fraction. The concept was horrifying, that she could possibly manipulate him like that, but she was also quietly intrigued. It was a clinical sort of interest, cold curiosity. “Would that work?” 

His answering laugh was short and breathless. It sounded more like a sob. “I don’t know, why don’t you try it? Pit the seals against my heart, let’s see what will happen to it.”

She felt awful suddenly for contemplating the thought. And though it was irrational, insipid, she kissed his chest, and rested her head against it. She felt more than heard him murmur her name in question. When she didn’t respond he tentatively wrapped his arms around her waist. 

“You should leave,” she said finally, though she made no move to pull away.  
  
“I should,” he agreed, but he only held her tighter. 

They stayed like that for awhile and she must've dozed off. Because when she roused herself she found she was lying against his chest. He was bizarrely still beneath her and she couldn’t tell what exactly was so unsettling about it until she shifted to look up at him and she felt him breath in for the first time. His eyes were very red as he gazed back silently. 

The storm outside had quieted. 

“I fell asleep,” she said hoarsely.

“I know.” He cleared his throat. “I didn’t want to wake you.” 

She bit her lip. Being alone seemed unbearable then.

He smiled, again it was that sad smile. “You could ask me to stay, if you’d prefer that.” 

“Stop reading my mind.”

“I didn't need to.”

She closed her eyes. “Please, stay with me.”

“As long as you’ll have me.”

**Author's Note:**

> For a tumblr request! 
> 
> I intend this to be part of a larger continuity but I’m posting it as a stand-alone for the time being.


End file.
